


Tension

by afinedenouement



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinedenouement/pseuds/afinedenouement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were meant to collide, a fatal head-on collision with no survivors. Yet, they were colliding and becoming one almost, molding against the other. It was wrong and yet . . . here they were. Various drabbles dealing with Shura and Yukio. Ratings vary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Forbearance

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: . . . No.
> 
> Some are anime based, others, manga based.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on my Shura RP blog. Prompt, asked by a demon!Yukio: Oops: I will write our characters getting into some trouble.

“Jus’ try some~!” she says, half sings, goading him on. A drunken Yukio was always something that she had wanted to see. Of course, with his demon powers she supposes that she should be cautious of the possibility of flames. Eh, but all she’s trying to do is to get him to relax, let himself go and have fun. A little fun never hurt, right? Right!

“Fine…” he mutters under his breath because please, someone make her stop. For the last hour, she had been teasing him, taunting him, refused to leave him alone knowing that eventually he would give in. Smirking, she handed over a can of beer, watching as he took a sip. The look on his face almost caused her to choke on her own drink. Pfffft! He really was a tight ass!

Like he would let her win at this though. He knows that if he tells her that the taste is awful, that ‘there I did it’ and quit, that she’ll only continue her antics. The picture of her dangling the can in front on him with her saying: ‘ya just have ta get used ta it’, is already in his mind. And with that, he takes another drink, trying his best not to pull a face and to ignore the smile on hers.

After one, two, oh hell—he’s lost count of how many beers he drank, he finds himself with his tie hanging loosely around his neck, shirt a ruffled mess along with his mind (thinking isn’t really happening at the moment), and his vision’s hazy around the edges. Shura’s suddenly kneeling in front of him, saying something, but he’s sort of lost because damn, how many drinks did she let him have?

“Yukio?!” Yukio’s head turns fast enough to give himself whiplash, turning to find Rin staring at him. _Shit._ It doesn’t help that he can’t remember what the scene before Rin looks like anyways. He’s on the couch and Shura’s now next to him and his clothes are a mess and she’s—oh. Well, that doesn’t help things. At least it explains the blush on his brothers face.


	2. Conflate

Normally, he would have protested, freaked out, told her that she was drunk and that she should go home ( _‘this isn’t your house, you know’ _). Instead, he finds himself letting it happen and maybe it’s because currently, he’s too tired to care or the fact that he really doesn’t mind (not that he would ever, ever admit it), but her she is, the woman that he despises, curled up next to him on the couch.__

At first, he’s nervous, face flushed because oh god, ohgod, _ohgod_ what if he does something wrong and then she’s angry and upset and—he comes to terms with himself pretty quickly because this is Shura and he likes to think that he knows her as well as she knows him (yet, she’s always surprising him by doing things like this). Pretending that his arm fell, slipped from it’s place behind his head (he was trying to sleep when she had decided it was the perfect time for her usual antics—wait, this is usual?) and oops, fell to her waist, touching, fingers ghosting over the top of her shorts, nervous to touch flesh even though with her, it’s almost impossible not to.

Groaning, he shifts around, wanting to see if he can get comfortable again. She had taken to leaning against him, eyes slowly, slowly closing and dammit—he had to move! “Ya alright?” she asks, looking up at him. Had he always looked this old? This worried? _Please let me in. If something’s wrong, please, please. I know I can help._

“Yeah…” he mutters and it’s so, so like him that she can’t help but smile. Tonight, she won’t ask questions because for once, their both content like this even if things are left unsaid. Although, perhaps things are better that way anyway. Sighing, she nuzzles her face against him, wanting to go back to her former position. Weird, he thinks. He would have never taken her for wanting to cuddle. “Hey—” he starts to speak, but he doesn’t know how things work, how this works and he’s at a loss.

It’s alright though because with them, words usually just lead to them bickering and frankly, he would rather that they just get some sleep than use their energy to fight. It’s funny how weightless she feels when he moves her on to his lap. Her closeness wasn’t close enough; he wanted more. Expecting a word of protest from her, he’s surprised when she simply accepts it, her hand picking at his shirt as she let’s herself lean in against him, her head under his own and his arms wrapped around her waist. It’s fine like this, he thinks. Perfectly fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally written on my Yukio RP blog. Prompt given by a Shura: Tender -- write sweet fluff between our characters.


	3. Evanescent

”Yuki-Yukio…” She’s half whining, half begging (and secretly wondering) as his hands hold on to her hips, his kisses traveling higher and higher and—god, where did he learn that? Her hands go to the back of his hand, trying to encourage him because she’s greedy and wants so, so much more. A sharp gasp escapes her as his tongue explores and she almost wants to pull him away and kiss that smirk that she knows must be on his face. Surely he must be smirking because he’s reduced her to…this.

Damn him and his pride. Damn him because—dear god. Her thoughts are a perfect jumbled mess as she pulls, tugs on his hair, wanting more, more, more. There he goes and complies, giving in, uses his fingers. She wants to describe things as a brutal assault of his mouth, tongue, and fingers, but she thinks that it sounds far too dark for the bliss that she’s feeling (and frankly, it’s cliche). At the moment though, she doesn’t care much for cliches or any feelings other than her own because she’s so, so close and then—he stops.

_Damn him._

Of course, he kisses her before she has the chance to speak. When they pull apart, she looks at him (her vision’s hazy so she supposes that she can’t really judge him) and she hates how by now he knows what makes her tick, has figured her out.

She wants to say something (not ‘I love you’, never, never that), but he’s too fast, sinking down, his hips rolling against her own. And this is the part that she always struggles with with him because she’s greedy, trying to get him to move faster (dear god, please, please). He’s different though. The reason behind this is one that he’s afraid to tell her (he wants to take this slow, remember this because, and his heart swells, he thinks he loves her).

Yet, they somehow manage to come undone together (her nails leaving marks on his shoulders, his face in her neck) and she still finds it weird to hear herself say his name and hear her name on his lips despite all this time.

They settle next to each other, him laying on his back, glasses back into their perfect place. She curls herself up against him, wanting to still be close, occasionally sneaking a glance up at his face (sometimes he falls asleep like this) and blushes, swallowing nervously because this isn’t love, this isn’t love. Please, please, _please_ —she can’t lie, not when it comes to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on Shura RP blog. Prompt given by a Yukio: "Shag me" -- write a dirty drabble with our characters.


End file.
